


The True Meaning of Bittersweet

by dawningjustice



Series: Cherik [3]
Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1717748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawningjustice/pseuds/dawningjustice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few nights after the events of Days of Future Past, Erik has a proposition for Charles that makes his heart soar while it crumbles in his hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The True Meaning of Bittersweet

               The wind rustled the curtains slightly in the dark, the softly harsh noise wakening Charles from his uneasy sleep. Although he had been able to close his mind to the invading voices for the first time in a decade, sleep still evaded him as the events from the past few days assaulted his consciousness. He didn’t know what to think, how to feel, how to act upon what had happened. He knew that their actions had been successful; they’d changed the future. But the knowledge of this did nothing to ease his heart, did absolutely nothing to rid him of the pain he felt at watching Raven leave for the second time. He didn’t dare think about Erik, knowing the sharp pain associated with that man too intimately, the ache that settled deep in his bones and weighed on his shoulders. The feeling that seemed like he was drowning in a ring of fire, although that particular situation was impossible.

                Telling himself to move on didn’t work, this he knew from experience as well. His fingers twitched slightly on the duvet covering the bed beneath him, itching to pour a glass of bourbon and knock it back. He almost missed the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat, as well as the blinding numbness that came with it, effectively silencing the world around him as well as his own thoughts when he couldn’t do it himself. At least, he told himself irately as he fought the urge, the drink would’ve made sleep easier to achieve.

                It wasn’t until he finally started to drift off again, his eyelids dropping shut and his breath evening out, that he felt the presence of another person in his chambers. Charles knew immediately who it was; who else would it be? Hank would have announced his arrival, and until they reopened the school there wasn’t anyone else occupying the mansion. Charles sat up slowly, using his tired arm muscles to drag himself up against his pile of pillows. A figure rose from the shadows, the darkness taking a familiar outline as it moved towards him. Charles sucked in a quick breath despite knowing the identity of his visitor. Being aware of this fact did not dampen the shock of actually seeing his face appear a few feet in front of him.

                “Old friend,” Erik said fondly, even now still having the nerve to address him as such. After all he had done, after all of the pain that they went through, he still had that stubborn audacity, hinting at animosity, that made Charles' skin crawl. This wasn’t the Erik he wanted to converse with. He wanted the Erik that wept at a memory of his mother, helped push a fellow mutant to his full potential with a carefree, happy smile stretched wide across his face. Charles wanted the Erik that stole sweet kisses across a chessboard in the candlelight, the Erik that could still pour a glass of wine with a steady hand even when his breathing was labored and his eyes were dark with desire. Charles wanted Erik, but he didn’t want Magneto; he would never want Magneto.

                “What are you doing here?” Charles exhaled, pushing a hand up his face roughly as if the sensation would be enough to push the man from the room. Though that was not really what he wanted, was it? Erik wore that God-forsaken helmet, and just the mere sight of it angered Charles to no end. If they were going to talk, they would do it without pretenses between them.

                “We need to talk,” Erik continued, as if Charles hadn’t even spoken.

                “I had gathered you felt that way,” Charles responded drily. “If you don’t mind, it’s the middle of the night and I’m not really in the mood. You can take your leave.” He turned his head away from Erik purposefully, opting to look out the window instead. It was childish, he knew, but he couldn’t help the satisfaction that seemed to wave over him at the almost wounded expression on Erik’s face. Not that Charles was watching him from the corner of his eye.

                Erik shoved his hands in his pants pockets forcefully. It was odd to see him like this, in regular street clothes but still donning that ridiculous headpiece. “I don’t want to fight with you,” Erik said quietly, as though it was an admission that should have held any weight. It didn’t.

                Charles snorted. “Now you decide on peace. I never wanted to fight with you, Erik, something that you never seemed to fully understand. I still don’t know if you do, even now.”

                “Why are you so ready to hate me? You lecture about acceptance and understanding, but you don’t even allow me to defend myself. You can’t take other’s criticism, but you’re so ready to deal it out to everyone else, aren’t you?” The words came out like whips, and Charles flinched from their impact but wasn’t sure Erik saw his reaction in the dark.

                “Hate you?” Charles asked, almost laughing. “Hate you? Oh Erik, I don’t hate you. I wish I did. It would make everything so much easier.”

                “I don’t understand,” Erik said, and Charles could certainly hear the confusion coloring his tone.

                “I love you, you fool,” Charles spat. “I’ve always loved you, and you left me broken in the dirt. What do you expect from me, Erik? That you can just pop in at any time, and I’ll welcome you with open arms? If that’s what you think, then you might as well get the fuck out of my house.”

                Erik seemed stunned for a moment, for he didn’t respond. Suddenly, his shape strutted forward to perch on the edge of the mattress, less than a foot from Charles. Erik leaned over him, one hand planted on either side of his hips, body heat rolling off of him in waves, luring Charles in, making him want to curl up against Erik’s chest and never let go. Their noses almost touched, and Charles could just make out the light eyes staring at him through the dark. Charles' breath hitched despite his efforts to keep it from doing so. “I just want to know that we will be okay,” Erik murmured, “and that somehow we’ll get past all of the hurt we’ve caused each other. This is going to be hard for everyone, Charles. Even after everything we’ve accomplished, the world is going to be difficult for mutants to live in. If we can’t work together, I need to know that I’ll have someone to turn to when I can’t bear the responsibility on my own.”

                Charles just stared, bewildered by Erik’s emotional outburst. Everything in him screamed for him to push Erik away, to close his eyes and order him off of the property. But he couldn’t ignore the way his whole body leaned towards the mutant in front of him, or the way his mind yearned to expand and join their thoughts. Erik reached up and removed the helmet as though he was the mind reader instead. “Go ahead,” Erik encouraged. “Search me. I’m telling you the truth, my friend. I need you. I need you desperately, and more than that, I want you by my side. I told you that once, don’t you remember? I still mean it, even now, even after everything.”

                Charles wanted so badly to give in. It would be so easy, he thought, to just reach out and envelope himself in Erik’s brightness. To lose himself in the anomaly that was Erik Lehnsherr. “I…I cannot, Erik,” he said, his voice sounding utterly broken even to his own ears. “You cannot ask this of me.”

                “And why not?” Erik’s pitch rose slightly. “What’s keeping you from me?”

                “I cannot just hand my heart over to you,” Charles said softly, “no matter how badly you wish me to. Maybe, someday…after things have slowed down. Maybe, then, we’d have a chance to fix things.” He reached out to brush Erik’s cheek with the back of one hand. “A second chance.”

                “We’ve had far too many of those, don’t you think, Charles?” Erik’s voice is cold for a moment before turning soft, almost pleading. “There’s been so many opportunities that we’ve let go by because of our hatred, or fear. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life worrying if I’ll have another chance or not.” The more Erik talked, the easier it was for Charles to envision a life where they were together.

                “I just…need more time to sort myself out.”

                Erik nodded sadly. “If that’s what you need. I’ll wait, Charles; I’m a persistent man.”

                “I know. Trust me, I know,” Charles smiled wryly. Erik closed the distance between them for one chaste kiss. It was nothing more than a soft press of lips, warm breath mingling afterwards as they leaned their foreheads together. They stayed like that for a long moment before Erik reluctantly got up, tucking his helmet under one arm and moving towards the window. Just as he grasped the open window ledge, Charles spoke out, nearly frantically. “Erik, wait!”

                Erik turned sharply, and even across the room Charles could see the hopeful expression on his face. It broke his heart a little more. He shouldn’t have spoken any more, but he did, and he swallowed before continuing. “It’s just for tonight until…if you want…” Charles pulled back the duvet and patted the empty side of the bed. Erik hesitated for only a moment before kicking off his shoes, peeling off his coat and setting that infernal helmet down on the bedside table. He crawled under the covers, wrapping his arms around Charles’ thin waist and resting his head on the telepath’s chest as Charles relaxed against him. Charles held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go but knowing that outcome was inevitable.

 

                In the morning, the dawn filtering through the now closed window highlighted the fact that Erik was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Not really spoilers, but just in case: spoilers. This is my first Cherik fic so any comments, please, I beg you!


End file.
